


A Love That Won't Sit Still

by cosmic_llin



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Getting Together, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back on Betazed for post-graduate study, Deanna needs a distraction from the pressure she's under. Lieutenant Riker might be it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love That Won't Sit Still

This was exactly why she had wanted to continue her studies on Earth, or on Ktaris, or anywhere but Betazed.

 _Little One, it’s just one night_ , said her mother.

 _One night that I was planning to spend preparing for the seminar tomorrow_ , Deanna said.

_Oh, it’s just one silly seminar, it’s not as though they’d fail you because you weren’t perfectly prepared for one seminar!_

_Mother, that’s not the point - would you ever want to be less than prepared for a diplomatic engagement, even a relatively minor one?_

Lwaxana sighed. ‘Deanna, look - I know you don’t want to go, but how can I show up at the Terran Embassy like... aaah... aaaah...’

She sneezed massively, several times in a row.

‘I know,’ said Deanna. ‘But can’t you send someone else?’

‘Little One, I’m not invited as an ambassador, I’m invited as a Daughter of the Fifth House. I can’t send one of the staff, I have to send another member of the House. And, sad circumstance being what it is, that’s you.’

Deanna huffed.

‘Please, darling, I’ll make it up to you,’ Lwaxana wheedled.

That’s what she’d said the other half a dozen times this had happened since Deanna’s return. Gifts and treats were no substitute for time and quiet to work in, but Deanna knew her duty.

_All right, I’ll go, but I won’t stay late._

_That’s my girl. Go on and get ready. Do you want me to have someone lay you out something to wear?_

_No, I’ll choose something myself_ , said Deanna.

If she had to go to some boring reception, at least she could choose her own outfit. She knew what her mother would select - something bright and flamboyant, probably with some sort of big pompom or sparkly sash or something. She wouldn’t tolerate Deanna wearing her Starfleet uniform, even if fleet dress was considered acceptable wear for diplomatic functions. Deanna aimed somewhere in the middle and chose a blue trouser suit close to the Starfleet sciences colour.

* * *

Deanna had to admit that the Terran Embassy was very pretty - she’d been there plenty of times, but she never got tired of the architecture, so much more elaborate and detailed than the plain, flowing lines of Betazoid buildings. It reminded her of some of the places her father had taken her, the only time they had ever visited Earth together.

The company left something to be desired though. There were representatives there from all the Houses, most of whom she’d known since she was tiny. She liked them all and they were all kind to her, but it still wasn’t what she wanted to be doing with her evening. The other guests were mostly human diplomats, a sprinkling of folk from the other embassies nearby, and the usual handful of human Starfleet officers assigned to Betazed - the Terran ambassador thought they added interest to a gathering.

Deanna agreed - she was dying to talk to someone about something other than Betazed and Betazoid politics and Betazoid culture - but she’d promised her mother she would look out for the Fifth House’s interests, so she left the tantalising Starfleet uniforms alone and concentrated on the older diplomats and aristocrats, passing on her mother’s regrets, congratulating people on their weddings or children’s weddings or grandchildren or new titles and honours.

 _Deanna, dear!_ said Sulara Grax, a daughter of the Third House and therefore Deanna’s social superior but not by very much. _Your mother said you were here, how nice for her to have you around again! Are you glad to be back?_

It wasn’t considered polite to speak telepathically in mixed company. Deanna smoothed mental barriers over her irritation and answered verbally.

‘It’s always nice to visit home,’ Deanna said.

‘Oh, so you aren’t planning on staying? Your mother seemed to think you might settle down after your Starfleet adventure...’

‘My “Starfleet adventure” is just beginning,’ said Deanna with a forced smile. ‘I’m only on Betazed for a year. I’ll be offworld again after that.’

‘Well, my dear, there’s no need to be annoyed, I was only asking,’ said Sulara, and she moved onto talking about her new landscaping project.

* * *

Deanna didn’t drink synthehol or alcohol and she wasn’t even thirsty, but the drinks table was somewhere to go as an excuse to get away from the prying questions of all these people who remembered her as a child and still thought of her as one. She stood for a moment, breathing slowly and pouring herself a glass of water for something to do with her hands.

‘Looking for something?’ someone said.

He was tall, broad, dimpled, and hadn’t been on Betazed long enough to develop even rudimentary mental shields, because she could sense everything he was feeling - eagerness to help, hope that talking to her might be more interesting than his evening so far, anxiety that she might just tell him to go away, and an edge of attraction that she found herself not minding at all. Also he was wearing a Starfleet uniform, with lieutenant’s pips.

‘Oh, just browsing,’ she said. ‘Lieutenant...?’

‘Riker,’ he said. ‘Will Riker.’

‘Deanna Troi,’ she said. ‘Um... Ensign Troi, actually.’

‘You’re in Starfleet?’ he said. ‘No kidding. I thought you were one of these Betazoid royal types.’

She raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Actually it’s both.’

‘Oh!’ he said. ‘Interesting. What’s that like?’

He asked just as she was taking a sip of her water, and his question - and his genuine interest - made her breath catch. She choked, coughing up the water.

‘You ok?’ he asked.

She nodded, blushing. Why was it she could act like a proper Daughter of the Fifth House all evening with people who didn’t matter, but the second she got to talk to another Starfleet officer she made a fool of herself?

‘What happened there?’ he asked.

She took another gulp of water. Possibly she had been thirsty after all. ‘It’s just... your question took me a little by surprise. I don’t often get asked about how I feel about my life.’

‘Well, how _do_ you feel about it?’ he asked. ‘Hey, don’t choke again...’

She rolled her eyes at him, but only a little. Sincerity practically radiated from him. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘Huh,’ he nodded. He waited for her to say something else.

‘It means I have a lot of conflicting priorities,’ she said, warming to her subject. ‘Like tonight, for example. I have a seminar to prepare for tomorrow, but I had to come here and represent the Fifth House instead, and all evening people have been telling me how much I’ve grown and how much they hope I’ll settle down on Betazed when I’ve never really... it’s not what I...’ she floundered.

‘A seminar? You’re still studying, then?’

She nodded. ‘Post-graduate. I graduated from the Academy - and I did half my courses here, at that - and spent a couple of years working as an assistant counselor at the Starfleet base on Ktaris. My commanding officer there thought I should apply to become one of the new ship’s counselors, so I came here for a year to study first contact theory, psychology of command, all of that.’

‘It sounds fascinating,’ he said.

She hadn’t wanted to cheer up, but it was happening anyway.

‘It is,’ she said. ‘My seminar tomorrow is about different greeting rituals in various cultures, it’s incredible, you know, the Evora have this elaborate...’

‘Listen,’ he said, ‘why don’t we find somewhere quieter and I can help you study?’

‘Oh, I don’t have any materials...’

‘Well, you could at least go over what you remember?’

She stared at him. ‘You’re really happy to do that?’

She could tell he was. He shrugged. ‘I don’t normally get to talk to anyone interesting at these things, it’ll make a change.’

So they found a spot under a staircase where nobody would bother them, and she told him everything she remembered from her reading, and if he was kind of bored he was too polite to say so and she was certainly too polite to mention it when he was trying so hard to look like he wasn’t.

* * *

He called her the next day, to ask how her seminar went and to see if she wanted to take a walk in the park with him. She grinned at that - a walk in the park. It was so old-fashioned it was charming. And even though she had planned to focus on her studies this year and avoid romantic entanglements, one walk in the park seemed harmless.

‘So,’ she said, taking his arm and enjoying his sudden anxious pleasure, ‘I told you all about myself last night - what about you?’

‘I’m going to be the youngest captain in Starfleet history,’ he said.

He was so earnest that she had to smother a smirk.

‘You’re that good, are you?’ she asked.

He grinned at her. She sensed a flicker of doubt but it was squashed under his radiant confidence. ‘I _am_ that good,’ he said. ‘Want to come and be ship’s counselor on my first command?’

‘I don’t know,’ she teased, ‘that would mean you’d have to take my advice, and I’m not so sure that’s something you’d be good at.’

He winked, and didn’t contradict her.

‘Hey, come look at this!’ she said. ‘It’s one of my favourite things in the park - a muktok plant.’

He frowned at it. ‘What does it do?’

‘It doesn’t have to _do_ anything - isn’t it enough that it’s beautiful?’

‘Sure, I guess...’

‘As it happens, the flowers chime in the wind, but I’d like it even if they didn’t.’

‘Huh.’ He reached over and shook the plant, and it chimed softly.

‘You’re supposed to wait for the wind to come and do it,’ she said.

‘Why wait for things to happen when you can make them happen? Just seems like a waste of time.’

She laughed at him and, for an answer, turned to stand closer to him, twining her fingers with his.

‘Things like this?’ she asked.

Close up, his eyes were so blue it took her breath away for a second. He smiled broadly at her and she kissed him. He tasted of something sweet, and his mouth was soft. His hands still held hers, and one of his thumbs made gentle circles across her knuckles. He was warm and solid, and she pulled him a little closer with a sigh.

They broke apart, and kept walking hand-in-hand through the park.

* * *

It was four weeks later and they were in Will’s bed in the officers’ quarters of Betazed Starfleet Headquarters. It was, truthfully, where they’d spent much of the last two weeks, duty and education permitting. They’d tried having sex in Deanna’s room at her mother’s house - it was larger and more comfortable than the rooms junior officers got - but Lwaxana had a tendency to shout encouraging things up the staircase and it put Will off.

‘I don’t know where you get the energy, Deanna,’ Will said.

He was still flat on his back, recovering. She was already sitting up and going over her notes for the lecture she had that afternoon.

‘I can’t let my academic responsibilities slide,’ she said.

‘It’s not just that,’ he said. ‘It’s... well, I’ll be honest, I’ve _never_ had two weeks like this. It’s all I can do to keep up with you and keep awake for my duty shifts. I don’t know how you can do all that and still put so much into your studies and your duties at home.’

‘We can slow it down?’ she offered.

‘No! I mean... it’s great, I’m just impressed I guess.’

‘That’s nothing,’ she said. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t meet me a few decades from now. Betazoid women in mid-life go through a physiological phase of dramatically increased sex drive...’

‘... how dramatically?’

‘Maybe four times normal?’

His eyes widened so far that she decided not to tell him that was only an average and not the maximum.

‘Wow,’ he said. ‘I wonder if we’ll still know each other when we’re that old?’

‘Well, it might not be the same for me, I’m only half Betazoid,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘So... double, then?’

She threw a pillow at his face and went back to her lecture notes.

* * *

‘Look,’ she said one day, as they walked in the park in the sunshine, ‘If you’re going to be around for a while I’d like to teach you some basic mental shielding techniques.’

She resolutely did not think about how him - or anyone - being around for a while had not been in her plans for this year. It wasn’t anything to do with that, anyway. It was just a question of Betazoid etiquette.

He frowned. ‘Why? I don’t think anything I wouldn’t want people to know.’

‘Well, that’s nice for you, but there’s still the question of other people having to hear your stray thoughts. As an off-worlder everyone will give you the benefit of the doubt, but among Betazoids rudimentary shields are just good manners. It doesn’t hide your thoughts, it just... makes them less intrusive.’

‘That makes sense,’ he said. ‘Is it difficult to learn?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘I learned in childhood, like most Betazoids. But I know of some off-worlders who’ve lived here long enough to master it too. It can’t hurt to make a start, since you’re here at least another few months.’

‘All right, teach me,’ he said, taking her hands and pulling her down onto the grass.

‘What, right now?’

‘Yeah, when else?’

‘All right... um... first of all, I want you to recognise what a thought from someone else feels like. So I’m going to project a thought into your mind. Is that all right?’

‘Sure.’

‘Are you ready?’

‘Go for it.’

She took a few breaths, concentrated, and sent a single word, just his name. He jumped, and she felt his astonishment.

‘That’s... that’s amazing,’ he said. ‘It’s like you’re inside my head with me.’

She nodded. ‘Do you see now why it’s important to have some measure of control over this sort of thing? You were ready and willing to hear that thought and it still shocked you.’

He took a deep breath. ‘I get it. Teach me.’

* * *

Deanna was very careful to allocate enough time to her academic and social responsibilities, especially the former. Even if thoughts of Will intruded when she was studying, or during a meeting with her supervisor, her mental discipline was sufficient to banish them until a more appropriate time. She could go all day without thinking of him, if she had to. There was no need whatsoever to think about his cute smile, or his infectious enthusiasm, or the way he always seemed to understand what she was getting at without needing every word spelled out.

She didn’t have to think about it at all, but it was always a relief when she was free and he was waiting.

* * *

Deanna liked Will a lot. He was fun. He was smart. He was good in bed. He listened to her talk about her classes, and got interested in spite of himself. He knew where to get really good chocolate. He introduced her to his friends as Ensign Troi, and when she went to the Starfleet social club to see him play with his band, he dedicated a song to her. And then messed it up. He was the perfect escape from the pressure she was under - from her mother, from her tutors, from herself. Their relationship was nothing serious and everything she needed.

The day she knew she was falling in love with him came six months after they met. It was her birthday.

Weeks earlier, wrapped close to him in the early hours in the morning, she’d happened to tell him about a book her father had used to read to her when she was small. She had looked for it, years later, but it was nowhere in the house and she had concluded it must have been in one of the boxes her mother had given away back then. She’d searched in several library databases but she just couldn’t remember enough detail to narrow the long lists of possibilities down. It had been nagging at her for years - it was a western, like so many of the stories they’d shared, there had been a woman on the cover with curls a little like Deanna’s, there had been a new sheriff, something about a rainstorm, a hat that had some kind of significance... and that was it, that was all she knew. And yet she was sure that book had been special. Will had listened sympathetically.

And then he’d found it.

She tore open the wrapping paper and tears blurred her vision. Of course. It was called The Star on the Horizon, and as she examined the cover it all came back to her in a flood, the details that had eluded her suddenly as clear as if she had read it yesterday. The brave heroine, the corrupt sheriff, the lost documents, the gunfight... she had made her father read it over and over, and he had never once refused her. She wasn’t sure now what had drawn her to that particular story so strongly, but she did remember that he read it to her three times in a row once when she was sick with a fever, long into the night because she couldn’t sleep. She stared at the book, suddenly real and solid in her hands, and she held it close to her heart.

And then she became aware of Will again, his pride at having found the perfect gift, his concern at her tears, and his newly-learned mental shields, damping those feelings down so that they wouldn’t intrude on this moment she was sharing with her father.

‘Will... thank you.’

It seemed so inadequate a response.

‘I’m glad you like it,’ he said, and the warmth of his understanding made her sigh with happiness.

* * *

She gave him a book in return - Ode to Psyche. It was one of her favourite Terran poems, and although he didn’t know or care much about poetry, she wanted to share it with him.

Inside she wrote: _To Will, all my love, Deanna_. It was easier to say when she didn’t have to speak the words aloud, didn’t have to admit to the hugeness of this feeling. It was so much more than his laugh, his quick mind, his generosity, his compelling ambition. It was that she felt more like herself with Will than she ever had with anyone except her father.

It was so rare that she showed her whole self to anyone. To her mother she was a child still, and an entirely Betazoid child at that. She'd never quite fit with any of her mother’s family, or with her Betazoid friends, or with her friends and lovers at the academy. She’d always held herself a little apart.

With Will she fit. From that first evening when he had helped her study while a party happened around them, he had wanted to know every part of her, he had welcomed it all. She loved herself more when she was with him.

* * *

The first time she called him imzadi - in his quarters, teasing him about his trombone playing - was an accident, the word spilling from her mouth easily, without her thinking about it. She had never said it before. But as soon as she did, she knew it was right. She smiled.

'What does that mean?' he asked.

'The closest translation is something like "beloved",' she said. 'But it means more than that. It means that, whatever happens, wherever our lives take us, somewhere in my heart there will always be a place for you.'

'Imzadi,' he said thoughtfully. 'I like that.'

* * *

Suddenly she wanted to show him everything, all the places and things that were important to her. They visited the Art Museum and looked at all her favourite sculptures. She took him on a walk around the district where she had attended school. They went to the Janaran Falls and spent the whole day lying on the banks of the river, just talking and eating the picnic Lwaxana had sent.

It felt so far away from anything that it didn’t seem to matter that she had assessments coming up, or that her mother was trying to convince her to take on more social duties, or that everyone seemed to think that she was back on Betazed for good and might want to marry their eligible children within the next week or two.

There was never any tension with Will. Being with him was the only thing that didn’t require difficult decisions, or arguing, or hard work and concentration. It was so easy to just watch a waterfall with him and just _be_ , without needing to do anything.

 _I’ve never met anyone like you_ , she said, sitting with his head in her lap.

‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘I’m a rare specimen.’

* * *

‘Deanna,’ he said, when he met her outside her last class of the day.

She knew right away that something was going on. That mix of excitement and nerves and confused sadness...

‘You’re leaving,’ she said.

‘I... yeah. I got that posting on the Potemkin that I applied for.’

She kissed him. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

He took a deep breath. ‘Come with me. I can take a partner aboard if I want to.’

His eyes were hopeful, but she could sense that he knew she would refuse. They both looked down at her hands, still carrying the padds full of her lecture notes and reading.

‘There’s no opening for a ship’s counselor on the Potemkin,’ she said gently.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I just thought... I thought I’d ask.’

She took his hand and they walked through the leafy campus together and talked about what they would do. They had a week together, before he left. After that, Deanna had final essays and exams, but they would be over in another few weeks.

‘Let’s meet on Risa,’ he said. ‘The Potemkin has shore leave scheduled there for all the crew, just when your exams are over.’

Risa would be the test, she knew. Six weeks apart, and then they would discover if they could make each other happy this way.

* * *

They spent the evening before he left at the Janaran Falls. This time, just being with him couldn’t make all of her sadness and worry disappear.

It was a memorable evening anyway.

* * *

The Potemkin had to cancel the general shore leave on Risa for an important mission and Will, newly promoted, didn’t feel that he could take leave independently at such a crucial point in his career.

They talked over subspace. He was too far away for her to sense his emotions, but they were plain to her anyway in his stricken expression, the way he had to swallow before speaking. In the end they both cried, and knowing that they had made the sensible, adult decision didn’t make it any better. When they ran out of things to say they just looked at each other across the lightyears that separated them, for long, silent minutes.

‘I...’ he said.

‘I know,’ she said.

He terminated the connection.

* * *

She went to Risa anyway. It seemed like a good way to cheer herself up.

* * *

Captain Picard had requested her especially for the new flagship, the Enterprise. It was quite a promotion, a much larger ship than she had served on before, and a mission that was likely to test her skills to the utmost.

When the rest of the senior staff had been chosen, he sent her the personnel files so that she could familiarise herself with the other officers. And that was where she saw his name. Executive officer, Commander William Riker.

This would be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this comes from the Vienna Teng song _Stray Italian Greyhound_ \- I listened to it on a loop while writing this fic.


End file.
